Placebo Therapy
by Katastrophi
Summary: Karkat is an intern for Doctor Scratch's therapy clinic and always sits in on a certain patient's sessions. What will happen when he encounters the patient and realizes that Scratch's medicine could likely be doing more harm than good? AU. Humanstuck. GamKar. Co-write with Theres-No-Hole-Now on Tumblr.


**This is a co-written work of fiction between myself and my friend Magan over Tumblr. You can find her at :3**

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For years, Karkat Vantas had wondered what he'd even wanted to be. On a broad spectrum of people in all different shapes and sizes, he'd always felt out of place. He'd always felt a little on the invisible side, and at the same time, it seemed a little glaringly obvious that he was so different. He'd never be able to pull off being a famous football star or scientist, and he sure as fuck couldn't go into IT or enlist in the army. He wasn't an artist by any stretch of the word. All he really had was his passion for all things romance and his tendency to handle more than his fair share of different kinds of people.

Majoring in psychology had been a decision Karkat had made purely on a whim. His crabass father tended to be kind of loud about schooling with him. He'd always insisted that Karkat do something that doesn't make him miserable, but something that also earns him enough to survive. But that was such a broad spectrum, and when the young Vantas had thought about it, it had seemed too narrow at the same time. There were too many things he liked that wouldn't pay well enough, or too many things he dreaded the idea of getting involved in that paid well enough to make him rich.

So he'd chosen psychology on the fly. The fact that he'd actually found himself satisfied with the decision two years later was a damn miracle. But everything about psychology—from just being able to try and figure out the human mind, to the different laws and theories about the way the brain works, to mental disorders and physical reactions…it was all so fascinating.

Karkat had been quick to jump into a program for people interested in shadowing sessions. He'd never heard of the therapist offering the shadowing spots, but he was curious to see how it'd go.

The first day had been boring. But right around the time the doctor started throwing suggestions out and offering different medication options, it became interesting. And it was all for the same patient. Karkat got to watch the patient learn about himself…figure his own thoughts out…handle his own issues…and it was so cool.

He was going to see a different patient today, though. Since their usual's appointment wasn't scheduled today, Karkat didn't get to see the same guy. But the normally grumpy Karkat didn't mind. He was excited. Amidst the coffee run he'd been asked to embark on, he was looking forward to getting back and seeing what would happen with another person. If this person might act differently than the other one.

He didn't feel so out of place.

The coffee shop's door opened with a ding, and Karkat stepped inside. Having both orders memorized in his head, he moved toward the counter and opened his mouth to recite them—

—before he promptly closed it again when he spotted who the man across the counter was. For a moment, Karkat was completely speechless. His gaze dropped down to the counter, then back up to the man, and back down again, before sliding right back up, as if he were trying to confirm that he wasn't delusional.

And then he spoke.

"Oh, no, no, no, no. This is way too convenient. If your name is Gamzee, I might just literally shit myself right here and now. Not even going to lie, dude, this is just…something else."

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Gamzee Makara sat up in his bed, the colors behind his eyelids swirling. Gently, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn't like this new medication the doctor guy had him on, much. It made him dizzy. Slowly, he crawled out of his bed, several of his bones popping.

The male, who was fairly tall for his weight, walked from his small bedroom into the rest of his small apartment. It wasn't much, but it was home. Gamzee scratched lightly at his exposed navel, feeling the beginnings of hair growth prickling the pads of his fingers. He would need a shower soon.

Deciding to opt out of breakfast, the bard grabbed a quick shower. He had work soon, meaning he wouldn't be able to wear his beloved face paint. A gentle growl left his lips as he ran shampoo through his wavy locks of hair. The male hated the days he couldn't wear the paint; it made him feel so exposed and weak.

Making it to his establishment of hire, the juggalo draped a violet apron over his head and clocked in. So many faces passed back and forth all morning and nothing really sunk in until a slightly amazed voice spoke up.

With hazed eyes, Gamzee glanced at the smaller ebony haired male. "Whoa, Bro. How do you all up and motherfucking know my name?"

Shit like that was crazy, sometimes. People Gamzee didn't remember meeting always seemed to find him and actually know tended t o just shrug it off, why tarnish a miracle like that?

Karkat's shoulders slumped a bit at that question. Thinking about being a patient himself made it hard for him to believe that he wouldn't notice some other guy with a clipboard scribbling things down not too far away from the actual therapist, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Gamzee had likely not been focused on the surroundings. The appointment had been for him, after all—not the world around him.

"What, seriously?" He pointed to himself despite his thoughts. "You mean to tell me that after three appointments, you still don't recognize the kid who sits in on your therapy sessions? You're really fucking dense, you know that?"

There was another silence, before Karkat realized he needed to hurry up and order. And that he hadn't given his name. His cheeks puffed out in embarrassment.

"…Karkat. My name is Karkat."

Gamzee glanced over Karkat's form, a wide smile on his face. "Oh shit, Brother! I do have my know on A cute motherfucker like you. You are that kid gettin' all schoolfed and shit by Scratch."

He stretched his arms out, his elbows popping. Damn, being tall was some crazy shit sometimes; his bones liked to all up and make noise and get their music on. It was weird.

"Well, what can I do for you, motherfucker?" It was a wonder how he hadn't been fired yet.

It seemed Karkat's mind was on the same track as Gamzee's. With that cursing, how in the hell did this guy still have a job here? He hadn't exactly been clean with his wording during therapy, either, and—

—Wait, did he just call Karkat cute?

Cute?

How did someone even respond to that?

"Uh, I'll have two Gamzees—err, coffee! Coffee, fuck, I meant coffee." Karkat could feel his ears turning red with embarrassment. "Two coffees—one's a chai latte with espresso, and the other's just coffee with caramel. Yeah."

God, he felt ridiculous right now.

The barista smiled widely at his customer as he punched in the order on the cashier's computer. Due to his long arms and hands, he barely had to shift from the counter. He looked at the short male in front of him, adding a ten percent discount to the total. He knew the guy, and honestly, no one else was in the cafe to really give a fuck.

"Ah, the cash register is all up and hungry for 5.84, bro."

When given the money, Gamzee moved to make Karkat's needed drinks. The latte was finished before the ebony haired male could even move to the waiting counter and it had Scratch's name scribbled almost illegibly on the holding band. The coffee was made almost as fast but Gamzee took his time with it, making it perfect. There was something he liked about the cherry-brown eyed motherfucker waiting on him. He licked his lips, missing the subtle chalk taste of his face paint.

On the brim of Karkat's cup, the male decided to have a bit of fun. He scribbled, which was slightly readable, 'Cute motherfucker :o)'. He added whipped cream and drew a cat face into it with the caramel drizzle.

"Here ya go, Bro," Gamzee laughed softly, sitting his drinks in a small carrier for the male.

5.84…no, that wasn't right…That wasn't what Doc Scratch had told him it was going to cost…

For a moment, Karkat stared suspiciously across the counter, his reddish eyes narrowed at the man helping him, but he paid regardless. And then he waited. Gamzee operated quickly, and yet somehow lazily. It was a bit compelling to watch, and while he did so, Karkat found himself pondering how he'd just been told that a cash register had been hungry for his money.

Before he had much time to think about it, though, the drinks were offered to him. Karkat took the carrier a little awkwardly. "…Uh, thanks—wait."

It was then that he spotted the little scrawlings on top of his coffee. He took a few seconds to just let himself be shocked by the sight, and then his ears tinged a bright red. He couldn't tell what this clownass was trying to do, but goddamn it…

"…Did you just hit on me?" He questioned in disbelief, his voice just barely on the edge of accusational. God, the next time they were in this session with Scratch, Karkat was so going to get him back.

Gamzee leaned onto the counter, propping himself up with his elbows. He enjoyed the other's reaction and was a bit shocked that he noticed it that quickly. Though, what was a motherfucker to expect? Karbro was all up and trying to become a doctor. He let a small honk slip from his lips and watched the smaller male. "I dunno, motherfucker. Did I?"

…This bastard.

For a psychology major, Karkat was doing a terrible job of seeing what was really going on inside Gamzee's head. Not to mention that this was his first real, actual experience with this guy that didn't involve scribbling behavioral notes down on a piece of paper.

"…Fuck if I know—I'm just the apprentice." He answered bitterly. The redness hadn't left his complexion. In fact, it had worked its way past his ears and to his cheeks. And the fact that he could feel the heat in his face made it even more embarrassing. His grip on the drink carrier trembled a bit. "If you're too bone-headed to know what's going on in your own brain, take it to Scratch. But if you ask me, writing 'cute motherfucker' with that dopey smiley face on my cup seems pretty flirtatious. That's as much as you're getting from me in terms of an answer, Gamzee."

Now, if he could just talk his legs into moving. Fuck being rooted to the spot like this. Fuck it all.

"Then maybe you are all up and right about it, motherfucker. You should have your know on that you're quite the cute motherfucker, I was just lettin' you know." Gamzee's grin shifted into a smirk.

For some reason, this short, red faced kid caught the clown's attention. He couldn't tell if was because he was still willing to converse, even knowing that Gamzee was kind of batshit crazy, or if Karkat was just attractive when he blushed. Gamzee liked it and he wanted to know Karkat; it was only fair after all. The cancer was allowed to see inside of his head every thursday.

Okay, well at least he was honest. Karkat would give him that much. Not that it showed on his face. If anything, he just looked like a red porcupine. His hair, already messy as it was, seemed to stand on end, and his face was flushed. He looked on edge, even if it was more sheer embarrassment than anything.

"…You are terrible at subtlety." It was the best insult he could manage, and in Gamzee's defense, it wasn't really an insult. It was just…desperation to keep from looking even more like an idiot than he already looked. "But…that's nice to know, I guess. Thanks for the discount."

He started toward the door, but stopped again soon after. He didn't know why he was entertaining this so strongly. Perhaps he had a little more fascination with Gamzee than he could let on.

Turning, he faced Gamzee again. "…When's your next appointment? I don't exactly have access to the Doc's patient schedules." It was his way of saying he was gaining interest.

Gamzee chuckled softly, standing up straight now. He put his hands inside of his apron pockets and smiled widely at Karkat. "Who said a motherfucker was being subtle? And don't even motherfucking mention it, brother."

The clown looked at the clock, surprised that the Cancer had been in the shop, alone in his presence, for near fifteen minutes. He listened to the fretful male, another smile stretching across his face. "Why so curious, Karbro? Interested in seein' me?" Gamzee licked his lips before answering. "I think I all up and have my session tomorrow, I'm not sure."

It was a good thing Karkat's face couldn't have gotten anymore red than it'd already gotten. He wished his complexion would return back to normal, and a part of him almost wished he had just kept walking.

And at the same time, he kept himself rooted to the spot, then nodded. "Maybe. Maybe I can be like you and say that maybe I'm interested. Or maybe I can just take these maybes and cram them up your nostrils. Just…be there tomorrow, will you?"

Gamzee honked a few times, laughing at the smaller, yet highly amusing male. He may have been…a little rusty in the thinkpan, but the clown wasn't stupid. He often caught people by surprise because they wrote him off as idiotic.

"But with all those motherfuckin' maybes, wouldn't that up and equal a motherfucking yes? And I don't think my nostrils would find that as motherfucking miraculous as your hands would, brother." Gamzee spoke smoothly, enjoying himself as he watched the male in front of him. "I'll be there, Karbro, don't worry. Should I bring the motherfucking coffee?"

He was just teasing the wild cherry eyed motherfucker, now.  
This guy was totally different from how Karkat had pegged him during Scratch's sessions. It was like he didn't come in with the same personality or something. Or maybe he just hadn't had the time to try this flirting shit during the sessions. Then again, he hadn't recognized Karkat when he'd shown up initially.

Hmph.

"Yes. Yes, you should." He ordered in the most defiant voice he could manage. "I'll see you there, then. Don't disappoint me, clownass." He wheeled around and made to shuffle out the door, but such a feat was not accomplished without him stumbling initially and nearly spilling the coffee everywhere.

He was literally the most graceful being, really.

Gamzee smirked softly, grabbing a rag from under the counter to clean the mess had made, making the coffee. His boss's lunch break was almost over and he'd blow a gasket if the place was explosively dirty, again. "Watch your step, brother. I'd hate to have to up and motherfucking explain to Scratch why I was all taking you to the hospital and shit."

As he watched his only customer of the hour leave, Gamzee couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Maybe his should stop taking those meds more often. They kept him so dazed that he had never realized Karkat was such an…attractive being.

Had Karkat had a free hand available, he'd have whipped around and flipped Gamzee off, but he didn't. So instead, he merely turned his focus back on the taller man and shot him a fierce glare, before he started back toward Scratch's office.

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**We hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter! :3**


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